Forgotten Memories
by Delle Tuh
Summary: Revised and Reposted. Ron and Hermione oneshot, written for RuthLongbottom. A treasured moment between two tormented teens.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Harry Potter._

**Forgotten Memories**

It was completely irrelevant, the thoughts that meandered themselves into her mind. The library was empty, footsteps long gone after the clock struck it's heartbeats in her head. The loneliness bit at her, the quiet silence held between the books, mocking her as the words from their pages screamed in her head.

Thoughts of him were always so frustrating, confusing and unbridled. She sighed as she let her restless mind wander…far off across the changing staircases and into the dormitory occupied by one redheaded boy.

She thought of his hair, how it shone copper in the sunlight, like bright flames around his face. His freckles, and how they reminded her of sprinkled cinnamon, etching across his angular features in a boyish manner that clashed with his skin completely, though she found herself wanting to taste them…running across his cheek, trailing to his lips.

She shook her head, rereading the same sentence a few more times before returning to her earlier thoughts, his warm voice echoing deeply in her mind, velvet and smooth, past all of the adolescent squeaks and straight into the lilting caress of an accent that made her tremble. And those eyes, oh how she could loose herself in the clear blue, cloudless abyss. Drifting off into forever, with only him as her anchor.

Soon her hand was gripping her pant leg, her quill bending under her fists pressure with her teeth imprinted on her full bottom lip. She gathered her things, packing them hurriedly in her book bag before striding off into the corridor, muttering non-sense to herself the whole time.

"Wobble Goblins," she spoke softly as the common room door slid open, the Fat Lady murmuring inaudible curses at the time and how such ladies should be in bed. Hermione laughed as her feet hit the carpet rug lightly.

"Hermione?" It was the voice she had been thinking about not moments earlier, and with the sudden shiver that ran through her nerves she blinked stupidly at him, breaking the stutters that emerged from her quaking lips. "You ok?"

His hair was untidy, sprawled across his forehead and sticking up in the cowlicks on the back. His eyes were bruised with light purple circles, sleep obviously evading them both. She wanted to smile at his quirkiness, to take actions with her thoughts that craved reality, with her dreams that begged to see the sunlight.

"Hermione?" His voice brought her back from her stupor again, with the brash awakening she dropped her book bag, her things spread across the floor, the ink bottle spilling onto the stone floor. She swore to herself quietly. Ron chuckled as he walked toward her, gathering her strewn things and putting them back into her bag.

"I'm sorry." She said, bending down to pick up a rather heavy book that had landed on her foot. Ron took it from her, his fingertips grazing hers as he put it in her bag.

"No harm done." He smiled, his eyes shining with electricity as her heart began to pound with uncertainty, with anxiety. Her breathing became erratic, his presence fueling an ache deep within her chest, making her cry out for something, anything in her loneliness.

His eyes caught hers, their faces merely inches apart in the flickering darkness that the smoldering coals cast with the awakening shadows. He stared blankly at her lips, intent on the curve…the way her teeth seem to catch on them when nervousness set in, the way they parted when he looked at her.

He wondered how they would feel against his, how soft…satin or silk? The taste…deep with emotion and fierce with the hormones that emerged when they were alone. How the energy seemed to deepen when subtle moments such as this one seemed to occur. How the frustration…the tension could be cut openly.

But in this moment, he wanted to change it all, he wanted to be everything she needed, everything he wanted to be. He wished to take those few extra inches and break them with his lips melding softly to hers, their tastes and warmth mingling with the other. He wished to awaken and taste her on his lips in the early morning, to smell her skin on his.

Finally, after a few silent moments, his lips grazed her cheekbone, sending chills down her spine, causing her to stifle a small whimper. They continued, gradually to the corner of her mouth, where he stopped.

She wanted to turn her head and press herself to him, feel him against her, and never again wish for the feeling she got in these moments, but have it all the time. Oh how she wished, wanted, needed it to be true, how the feelings in her grew with every moment she wasn't with him and even more when she was.

Soon his lips were a whisper on hers, light enough to cause her to tremble absentmindedly, but intent enough that it made her head swim, her senses drown in the need she had.

And soon his lips moved forward against hers, still a whisper, still a moments touch between them, but enough to satiate his wonder, yet not his need.

"Goodnight…" He carried the words onto hers, their lips moving together though his were the only ones that spoke. "Hermione."

The last word was a fragmented whisper, broken with forgotten love and feeling, shattered with the ache that these rare moments created. But she loved the way it rolled so sweetly from his lips, how she could feel them caress the letters in her name, how her lips seemed to mimic his with the touch.

And too soon enough, he was gone. His long legs bounding up the stairs, leaving Hermione trembling in his wake.

--

**Author's Note: **My first try at a non-sexual take on a relationship. For the always lovely RuthLongbottom. Revised and Reposted. Review! --Delta


End file.
